Chapter 14 Losing Friendships
Losing Friendships
Dismantled motorcycles from the estate are placed on the pavement. Sadness hits as I stare at what was recovered. Leo’s prized soft tail, now destroyed, hurts the most.
“Sure you can salvage them?” I ask Chesty and Rudy, staring at the mess. Isaac sighs standing beside me, crossing his arms. We’re quiet as the two sort through the mess of dented frames and smashed bikes. Only four were brought down to potentially run again, the rest were damaged beyond repair.
Least I’ll be busy.
It’s been four days. Every moment I’ve felt on edge, while we lured out who we thought was the mole. Bait had been laid out for them, and now was the worst part—waiting.
“We’ll know more when we get into their guts,” Rudy comments, scowling at the mess.
“Worried about the soft tail,” Chesty mutters. “Really fucked up the engine and pipes.”
I glance over at it. “Can I help with it?”
Chesty rubs his beard, shrugging. Rudy meets my gaze. “No guarantee it’ll run again, barchen, but course you can.”
“It’ll be like a masterclass,” Isaac comments.
“Couple of’em,” Chesty mutters, bending low to look over a surviving chopper. “Gotta special order some things, which will take fucking forever.”
“Special order?” I ask.
“These ain’t new bikes,” Chesty says. “If we want them to run even close to how they did before and keep the integrity of the original bike? We’ll have to. Honestly, smarter bikers would just buy new motorcycles without the hassle.”
“Here I thought you were the best bike mechanics in town,” I tease. Rudy snorts.
Chesty grins. “We are, but even we have our limits. Don’t worry, we’re stubborn.”
They start moving the bikes over to their spots to be worked on when Isaac’s phone buzzes. My gut twists as he answers the phone. His face becomes serious, scowling when he meets my gaze. The others pause as Isaac hangs up with sharp huff. “Bait was taken.”
“Grabbed’em?” Chesty asks. Isaac nods, darkening with ire.
Fuck, I was hoping I was wrong.
“Where are they?” I ask.
“Logan and Animal are escorting them to the top floor,” Isaac answers.
“Where’s Leo?” I ask, ignoring the clawing at my spine.
“Coming back from another meeting.” Isaac and I exchange a look. He nods, already walking towards the private elevator.
“Chesty. Rudy. Meet Leo when he gets back? I’ll be on the top floor,” I say.
“Yeah,” Chesty answers.
I can practically feel the heightened tension as I follow Isaac. When I turn around in the elevator, I can see the pain in both their faces. Hurt. Them knowing, as well as I, who it was.
Isaac and I are quiet as we go up. My breath is slightly shaky as I concentrate, pushing the ache down. Silently, Isaac’s hand grabs mine and squeezes it. I calm a little, nodding in response before he lets go.
“You going on a date with Leanne soon?” I ask, clearly gunning for a distraction.
“Planning to.”
“She likes dancing and Mediterranean food, if you need ideas.”
“Thank you for the suggestion.” The doors open, and he follows me through the foyer and into the apartment. “There’s a jazz club I know of, I think she’d like.”
“Probably, and good choice.”
I head into the television room, scanning through the movies swiftly. I find the film I need, opening it and out drops the secondary key to the briefcase. Isaac snorts, bemused, as I put the movie away. “What?” I ask.
“Would’ve thought National Treasure.”
I glance at the DVD case, The Da Vinci Code, and then smile faintly. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”
We leave the apartment and get back onto the elevator in silence. Even with the temporary light banter, I can’t ignore the gnawing at my insides. A headache creeps from the back of my head.
“It’s not your fault,” Isaac murmurs. “None of us knew.”
“I know,” I say softly. “Except I’m torn between feeling hope that there’s a good reason and despair that my demise has been planned from the start. It feels all too similar to Roger. The lies.”
Before Isaac can say anything, the doors open, and I practically rush into Leo’s office. Anxiety tugs at the back of my neck as I enter, going straight for the briefcase placed on his desk.
Isaac grabs my shoulder, stopping me before looking at what was taken. “Miss Autumn, I want to tell you to hold onto that hope, but…” those blue eyes meet mine, “…it may be a fool’s hope.”
I swallow hard. “Yeah.”
He lets go as I approach the desk, noticing the case is locked again and open it with my key.
Mila comes into the office from the side door.
The two murmur as I search through the titles.
Immediately, I see three missing: The Thing, Barbella, and Heathers.
I open several cases to see if the blank CDs Mikey put in were taken without covers, but no.
Quietly, I shut it.
I turn to face Isaac and Mila, who’s gaze is narrowed as she flicks it to the briefcase and back to me. She remains stoic, coming closer to hold out another disc.
“Footage of them infiltrating the office this morning, an hour after Mr. Luciano left,” she says. “There’s another angle from the secondary camera we installed if you want that as well, but this is proof enough of who the mole is.”
I take the disc. “How long until Leo returns?”
“Ten minutes. On route back to the hotel,” she answers.
How I wish I could turn everything off like her, but then again, I have.
There’s a knock on the door, and Isaac opens it to reveal Chiari with a grim expression. She comes in, eyes almost downcast. The guilt on her face has haunted me since the security room.
“They’re all here,” she states finally.
I nod, taking a fortifying breath. “Interrogation room, please.”
Chiari nods once, and then leaves. Isaac comes over, murmuring near my ear. “You can allow Leo to take care of this.”
“It’s not like Steve,” I whisper, looking at him. “I need to talk…this time I need to go in there.”
“Ma’am, all three could be involved,” Mila says suddenly. “Should we—”
“No.”
“Miss Autumn, I don’t want to believe it either, but we—”
“Did they show up?” I ask, holding the disc up. “Did they help take the discs?”
Isaac’s face remains solemn as he glances over at Mila. She shakes her head once. “No, Ma’am.”
“Then, keep the others out for now.” Neither of them move. “Isaac, please escort them.”
He clears his throat before he finally walks out of the room.
I’m left alone with Mila who watches me carefully.
This feels worse than confronting the crime bosses.
With them, I knew they were the villains.
There was no deceit or unknowing of the knife aimed at my back.
I stare at the ground, a flurry of emotions running rampant along with pain and anger.
“Mrs. Luciano.” That title brings me out of the tailspin. Mila’s hard grey eyes meet mine. With a roughness only she could use, she says, “You have a job to do…boss.”
My spine straightens. I head for the side door and out into the small hall. Mila follows me as I come to the door, hearing a couple of shouts and then a door closing.
“If he comes back while I’m in there…” my throat feels tight, and I take a long breath, “…well, he’ll do what he wants. Just tell him I’m in there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I open the door, walking into the cold, drab room. It’s quiet after the door shuts behind me. The mole is strapped to a metal chair with a gag tied behind their head. Silently, I walk towards them, coming closer and there I already see the hatred in their eyes. My heart cracks.
“I didn’t want to believe it was Carl or the others, people I’ve shared meals with, long hours with, worked alongside, or even discussed futures together. Yet, here we are…aren’t we, Charlotte?”
Those green eyes narrow as she bites at the gag, mumbling something. Her hair is mussed and mostly out of its braid. She’s still wearing her maid uniform, likely apprehended while preparing one of the suites.
I glance over at the table in the room, seeing the three movies she took. The key she stole sits beside them. Disappointment hits me as I step around her, untying the gag. She makes a spitting sound, coughing as I toss it aside. Charlotte quiets as I step back to lean against the table.
“Why?”
She glares at me, frowning. Gone is the bubbly girl I knew or who giggled at random things with me. Gone was the woman I joked with. A character she curated, hiding in plain sight. All those questions and wonderings about me, don’t feel so innocent anymore.
“Did Alba know?”
“No,” she scoffs. “She thinks this is the best gig ever. Not to mention adores you for some reason.”
“You’re one hell of an actress. Thought I was good, but you take the damn cake.” She snorts. I ask again, “Why?”
Silence as she gives me a very disgusted, mean girl look.
“Leo is going to return, and you’ve seen the aftermath of what he’s done in here,” I say, ignoring the sick feeling that follows. “You know what he can do. I doubt you not having a dick is going to save you from that, so I suggest you start talking while we’re alone.”
She frowns, but I do see a sliver of fear seeping into her eyes. Charlotte has helped clean his messes. You’d think that would’ve been warning enough to not to screw him over but guess not.
“Charlotte—”
“You had everything,” she sneers, yanking at her restraints. “Everything I wanted, you had. There. Happy?”
“I’d have given you anything you wanted,” I argue. “Money, clothes, whatever—”
“It’d be second-hand shit! Pity crap!” She spits at me. “I still wouldn’t be the fiancé of a CEO and mafia don! Why take that when I could have everything?”
My brows pinch, horror running across my limbs. “You wanted to get rid of me…for…”
I can’t get the words out, feeling myself flung into the past as I envision Bailey glaring at me. Those hateful eyes as coffee spilled down my front. Have I landed in another version of that hell?
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “Not Leonardo.” I’m more confused, until she says, “Gabriel.”
My face goes pale as I stare at her. I breathe out, “What?”